


Fireworks

by EllaWorm11



Series: Fireworks [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Damages, Once Upon a Time (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Warehouse 13
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 21:35:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3356117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllaWorm11/pseuds/EllaWorm11
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Storybrooke residents have spent weeks planning and setting up for their first Fourth of July celebration. Just two days before the big event, two ambitious lawyers, and members of SHIELD and Warehouse 13 come rolling into Storybrooke under the guise that they are families who have come to see the fireworks. Regina is not pleased, and shit WILL hit the fan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fireworks

**Author's Note:**

> This was written last summer, before Elsa came to Storybrooke (Once Upon a Time), between seasons one and two of Agents of Shield, before season five of Damages, and after Captain America: The Winter Soldier. Uhh...Good Luck.

Chapter 1: Welcome to Storybrooke  
Storybrooke, Maine. 

 

It is a largely unheard of hamlet, tucked away safely between dense conifers and sea, located just off the state highway. The denizens of this town coexist in an odd manner. Hairy chested pirates clad in thick leather strut up and down the streets past pious nuns run about in search of fairy dust. The mayor is known for throwing temper tantrums, and, consequently, fireballs; and the sheriff drives a thirty year old VW bug. 

This quiet town, Storybrooke, is one ruled by magic and fantasy. And everyone is a fairytale character from a land called the Enchanted Forest, a land whose history reads like a Grimm’s fanfiction on crack. 

It is laughable to believe a town this flamboyant could remain hidden away from the rest of the world in which it resides forever. 

There will come a day when the outside world meets Storybrooke…  
...and the first line of defense is none other than one feisty mayor.   
_____

July 2, 2014

A parade.

Storybrooke’s first post-curse Fourth of July celebration (the other 3 July the Fourth’s were spent destroying an evil witch, destroying a wicked witch, destroying Peter Pan, and recursing all of the Enchanted Forest) and the denizens were finally ready to embrace American patriotism by way of drunken celebration, amateur explosives, and, yes, a kiddie parade.

There are several problems with this, most notably is the general lack of productivity. 

Shops close in favor of their owners decorating their childrens’ bikes, the dwarves leave the mines in search of materials with which to make explosives, and the sheriff’s department…

Oh, the sheriff’s department…

As instigators of the whole Fourth of July affair, the Charmings have suspended themselves on holiday...indefinitely, consequently leaving the sheriff’s station wanting of sheriff. 

The only business serving to fuel Storybrooke economy is Granny’s diner, which is now open twenty four hours a day to be used as a hub for both heroes and ex-villains alike until the holiday passes. 

And this has been going on now for over two weeks. Most residents take little notice or concern in this matter. After all, isn’t it the mayor’s job to keep the town functioning? 

Enter Regina Mills, mayor, reformed Evil Queen. Relationship status: single and heartbroken. She is a very complex woman with a stormy disposition, and finds herself under unusual stress as she is the only person doing anything, anywhere(sans Granny’s waitresses) in Storybrooke. 

Her phone rings for what is possibly the umpteenth time today. 

“What is it now, Sheriff?" Regina snaps into her cellphone from the mayor’s office.

"Uh, yeah, Regina..." Emma Swan falters on the line.

The mayor stiffens and a scowl crosses her features, "Do I hear water in the background?"

"In my defense, it was an accident. The dwarves wanted to set up waterworks for the parade and...well, now you have a really attractive geyser on Main, and unless you want a new sight for tourists, I think you should come down here."

"If I recall you have magic, " Regina retorts, "You fix it. Or better yet, put those dwarves to work. I hear it's what they like to do."

"But Regina, I-"

The mayor ends the call and turns it on silent. She considers taking the battery out of the phone and throwing it out the window, but dismisses the notion as being counter productive and outright foolish.

The bright red phone on her office desk rings with a grating tone. With a sigh she plucks the phone from the receiver with great distaste. 

"Sheriff Swan, if I get but one more call from you today about the endless problems you have started, I will not let you see Henry for a week, are we clear?" She thunders into the mouthpiece. 

"-Having some trouble are we, Mayor Mills?" Says an unfamiliar voice. 

It is feminine and contains a cold humor. Regina freezes on the spot. 

Regina Mills has been mayor of this town for almost thirty-two years. Not in her life does she recall ever hearing the disembodied voice on the line. Not here, and certainly not over there. 

"Excuse me, who is speaking?" She speaks with authority, anger dissipating and quickly replaced by caution. 

"Madame Mayor, if this is not a good day, I will call again. It certainly sounds like you have your hands full," The voice says in an almost mocking tone. 

"No, I'll have you know that I am perfectly fine and so is this town. Business as usual, I assure you," Regina narrows her eyes and says, "I believe I asked you a question."

There is a pregnant pause on the line, as if the speaker were contemplating her next words. Regina clears her throat. 

"My name is Patty Hewes. You may have heard of me; I am a lawyer. Tell me, Mayor Mills, do you know of the adoption agency "Angels from Heaven"? They have a center in Boston," The woman says. 

"Yes, I know of the adoption agency. It was through them that I got my son," Regina then snarls, "What is a lawyer doing putting her hands in the affairs of mothers and their children? Don't you have anything better to do?"

"Your son," Hewes continues with interest, "Henry, did you say? Tell me, Mayor Mills, do you care about Henry's welfare?"

"Henry's - what are you even talking about?" 

A violent knocking comes from Regina's office door. She puts the phone aside to yell, "Go away!" Before casting a barrier spell on the door and returning her attention to the threat on the phone.

"I'm going to hang up now," Regina hisses into the mouthpiece, "And you are going to leave me and my family alone."

Hewes laughs, "No, I think you are going to listen to me. You see, I am investigating a child trafficking case right now, you understand the significance of this, yes? We have evidence that "Angels from Heaven" adoption agency was a part of this operation.”

Hewes pauses to listen to Regina’s heavy breathing on the phone before continuing with great satisfaction, “ In other words, I know you’re up to something sinister, and I cannot let you get away with whatever atrocities you have committed. I will get to the bottom of your lies one way or another, and the only thing stopping me from taking your son away is my goodwill, do you understand?”

Regina’s knuckles whiten on the telephone, “Goodbye, Mrs. Hewes,” She hisses. 

The line dies, but not before a faint snickering slithers across the connection. 

Well, that was certainly unexpected. 

Regina slowly lowers the telephone to the receiver. Her hands are trembling, and she strides to a file cabinet to rifle through the contents with urgency. She locates her son Henry’s adoption papers when motion out of the corner of her eye attracts her attention. Her jaw drops.

“Belle?”She addresses the brunette woman hanging onto her windowsill, “What the Hell are you doing?”

“I knocked,” the surprisingly athletic librarian grunts from her parkour pose. 

Belle scrambles through the window and drops to Regina’s white tiled floor unceremoniously. 

“Regina!” Belle exclaims, “You have to come into town right now. There are these people-”

“I don’t want to hear it. Whatever commotion is going on downtown, you fix it,” Regina snaps dismissively.

Regina tosses the file on her desk. She gestures to the door expectantly and removes the spell she had cast with a tilt of her head. 

Belle gives Regina an exasperated look, and very slowly and with great diction, as if speaking to someone from a foreign country, responds, “There are people in Storybrooke.”

Regina shrugs, “There are clouds in the sky. Why are you wasting my time?”

Belle shakes her head, “No, Regina. There are people, here, in this town, who no one has ever seen before. People from the outside world. My husband is treating them at Granny’s, and Emma is on her way now, but there’s only so much we can do until the Mayor comes down. We’re all waiting for you at Granny’s.”

Well, wasn’t this fantastic. Two evils in one day, how about that?

Regina takes a deep breath as she feels a yawning migraine fast approaching. Was her life stressful? Was the Mayor of Storybrooke allowed no respite from these tortures? 

No, she already knew the answers to these questions. 

“Lead the way,” Regina deadpans. 

\-------

Skye leans behind Triplet to whisper in Simmons’ ear. “The guys in crazy town aren’t bad, are they?” 

“No they are not!” Simmons responds, watching a tall, strong, blonde man enter the diner with a happy smile. The two watch appreciatively as he nods politely to Coulson, before going to stand next to a woman holding a baby...slide an arm around her, and kiss her.   
Skye groans quietly and Simmons sighs “Never mind!”. Between them, Triplet snorts, badly concealing his laughter. 

Prince Charming hadn’t noticed the girls’ ogling, but his wife had. “You are making quite the impression on our visitors.” Snow White tells him quietly. 

“What?” Charming follows Snow’s nod to two girls on the other side of the diner, who quickly avoid his gaze. “Oh,” he chuckles, “Well, I can’t help being beautiful!” he laughs warmly, and Snow pushes him off gently, smiling back. 

But her smile fades quickly, and so does Charming’s. He watches her face with concern- she seems on guard, as if she was about to have to defend them. “What do you think they’re here for?” she asks quietly. 

Charming sighs, finally turning serious. “They’re just a family, passing through. They’re probably just stopping by for a quick bite before moving on.” 

Snow doesn’t look convinced. “Look at that girl, the one with the dark hair.” She nods back to Skye. 

“What about her?”

“She’s acting like Emma did when she first found us.” Snow watches her husband’s forehead wrinkle as he thinks. “She doesn’t know how to act like a family.” Snow explains impatiently. 

Charming’s face reflects his understanding. He looks around the diner, crowded with strangers, and leans in closer. “You think they’re lying?” 

“I think they are definitely not telling the truth.”

A plump, grey haired woman with old lady spectacles grabs a clipboard on a pass through her diner. She checks items off as she walks through to the kitchen to consult the shift schedule. Granny pulls the flaps from the kitchen aside to call out to her granddaughter who is topping off Skye’s drink, “Ruby! Your shift is over!”

A tall brunette with red streaked hair gives a smile to Skye and the rest of the members at her table before heading back behind the bar.

“Really?” She asks, wiping her hands on her apron, “I can work another if you need me. I mean, it looks like things are picking up the pace in here.”

Granny puts her hands on her hips in very intimidating manner, “No, I want you to take a few hours off to sleep. You honestly look like you need it.”

“Hm? No, I’m fine,” Ruby claims, but she hangs her apron up and counts her tips anyways.

“Go get some rest – and no going off to the Rabbit Hole for booze- I may be old, but you can’t fool this nose,” Granny warns as Ruby walks back out. Ruby blows her grandmother a kiss before being beckoned over by the Charmings.

“What do you make of them?” Charming asks, seriously.

Ruby cuts her eyes towards the traveling family, “I think that if we learned anything from Greg and Tamara, any newcomers to Storybrooke will bring nothing but trouble,” She sniffs, and wrinkles her nose, “Something’s off. It’s making the wolf in me restless. “

“Sh! Not so loud!” Snow chastises, “Do you want them to start suspecting us right away?”

Ruby only shrugs before heading for the door. She opens the door to leave, only for Emma to walk in soaking wet, so she slips out as mother and daughter converse.

“Emma?”

“Hey Mo- uh…Mary Margaret,” Emma trips over her words and catches herself, but barely.

“What happened to you? Why are you soaked?” Charming asks with a brow furrowed with mild amusement at his daughter’s antics.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. Things are just…chill,” Emma rubs her hand vigorously up and down her arms. Charming retrieves a blanket from the back of the diner to wrap around her trembling frame.

“Emma, I don’t know what to do,” Snow admits, “It would be one thing if there were two or three of them, but these people came in three separate RV’s. There are more of them on the way!”

Emma yawns.

Charming nods in agreement with his wife, “I’d rather not let my guard down on this one. We were just talking with Ruby. Remember what happened with Greg and Ta-“

“Yeah, I know,” Emma grumbles, cutting him off and stifling another yawn, “I dunno, did we greet them yet?”

Snow nods, “Yeah, Gold just offered to pay for their lunch.”

“Oh, and if that’s not suspicious or anything!” Emma groans, placing her head in her hands, “God, Regina is going to kill me.”

She considers enlisting the help of her parents to put the fire hydrant back in place, but decides that the problem at hand is much more in need of her attention. 

“They seemed fine with it,” Charming shrugs, “They at least didn’t act suspicious when Gold offered.”

“Of course. Free food,” Emma deadpans.

“Well, Emma, as if ‘Hi, my name is Snow. This is my husband, Charming! Welcome to Storybrooke, where all of your favorite fairytale characters are real and living in your world!’ is a better alternative,” Snow points out in an overly cheerful, stereotypical Disney Princess’s voice.

Ok, touché, she figures. 

Emma watches the newcomers closely. Coulson and Melinda laugh at some unshared joke. Skye and Triplett show a card trick to Fitz who points out that they did it wrong. Simmons just laughs while Triplett offers to play a game called “Fifty-Two pickup”. No one falls for it.

Emma sighs, “Yeah, I just hope they don’t take our hospitality as invitation to stay.”

A low buzzing disturbs the moment between Melinda and Coulson. Coulson stands and brings a phone to his ear.

“Hi Natasha, “ He says with a grin, “Uh-huh, yeah we made it into town- and guess what? Free food! Yeah, can’t get much better than that!”

Emma narrows her eyes at the man on the phone. Just then, Regina walks in with Mr. Gold and Belle in tow.

“Regina,” Emma begins.

“Sheriff.” 

Regina pushes past her without casting a glance in the blonde’s direction.

Coulson continues chatting on the phone, “Tell you what: We’ve got the lights, the moola, and the strategy games. See you soon? Ok, Goodbye.”

He hangs up the phone as Regina struts up to him.

“Hi, can I help you?” Coulson asks. 

“Good morning,” Regina gives a dazzling smile, “ Enjoying your time? You’ve got quite a family, haven’t you?”

“Yep, and thanks, we are.” He puts an arm around Simmons who has come up beside him, as if on cue, “Family- my pride, my joy; my team,” He smiles.

“I’m glad,” She holds out her hand, “Mayor Mills.”

“Oh, golly!” Coulson’s eyes widen as he exclaims “Hey! Everyone! It’s the Mayor!”

Emma watches with mouth agape at the exchange and the interlude full of handshaking, head nodding, and pleasantries which follow. She supposes that playing nice is a good tactic in this situation, although she was unsure whether Regina would be up to her old manipulative mind games after having her heart broken by Robin Hood. Then again, the mayor always was a good actress. 

Gold wears an uncomfortable smile on the verge of breaking, and Belle pats his arm. This is no easier on him, either, as intruders of the world outside of Storybrooke only remind him of the world to which he abandoned his son. 

She shakes her head and stifles another yawn.

“What’s up?” Charming places a hand on his daughter’s arm.

“What do you mean?” Emma nudges him.

“You’ve been yawning all morning,” Snow points out.

“Yeah, I just…had a late night,” and Emma closes up like a clam. 

 

\------

Sitting ominously overlooking a grassy knoll is an old style ranch house. It is cluttered with broken ceramics and shattered glass. The paint peels and the state of the estate suggests neglect.  
Behind the house is a whitewashed barn where there sit two men, both with dark hair. The one with glasses is fiddling with a set of monitors and wires. The other is peering into the barn with a look of amusement painted on his face.

“What are you doing?” Bruce Banner asks.

“Just admiring the magnificent hole in the roof,” Tony Stark replies with a nod.

“Help me.”

“Yeah, in a moment – say, you don’t think we could just interrogate the residents of crazy-town, do you? I mean, look at this hole!”

Banner just shakes his head. Any other person would suffice. Any other personality. But no, it just so happens that the only other Avenger with a sizeable brain to match his own has also an ego at least double the size.

“Skye’s been texting me updates,” Banner informs, standing and running the wires through his fingers to make sure everything is connected correctly and that there are no snags, “They’ve been getting the hairy eyeball at the diner. I don’t think we’re welcome here. We need to hurry and set up.”

Stark makes no move to help, much to Banner’s chagrin.

“So, we know they’re hiding something. Good. You know if I had my equipment I could totally make something that could blow a hole this big. Reminds me of the good old days – ooh! Could I borrow that?”

Stark points to the pulsating ray gun in Banner’s hand. It is of Stark’s design, however Banner has made some adjustments so as to enable them to monitor small particles. Specifically, electrons. Banner misses the days of gamma bursts – so much less stress on theoretical minutiae. 

“No. And I’m finished, no thanks to you.”

“Knew you could do it!”

“Don’t test me.”

“As long as we’re not seeing green, we’re all good!” Stark jokes.

“I hate you, you know that?

“Love you too.”

Static on the radio at Stark’s side breaks their habitual banter prematurely. Stark pulls the antenna and responds, “Stark, copy.”

Natasha Romanov’s voice crackles over the connection, “Coulson just gave us the cue. Are you all set up?”

Stark glances around to the monitors, heat and light sensors placed systematically throughout the barn. Idly, he picks up a blue urn and leans it against one of the monitors.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

Banner glares at him, waving at him to throw the urn away, and Stark returns with a thumbs up. He mouths “it’s pretty” and returns his attention to Black Widow.

“Good,” Romanov is oblivious to their antics.

She terminates the call.

With that said and done, both men are put on standby. They have nothing to do but wait. And hopefully not kill each other out of boredom.

A thought occurs to Stark, “What are we going to do about the noise?”

Banner bites his thumb nail. Obviously, with restricted access to high end mechanics and rare metals, their instruments were more like the rudimentary contraption an imaginer dreams up using spare bike parts and scraps. These machines will make a lot of noise. Crap.

“I suppose we’ll have to wait until the Fourth,” Banner admits, “According to Skye, there are some short drunk men making homemade fireworks which should mask any noises we make.”

“Peachy.”

 

\----- -----

Coulson walks behind Skye to go to the men’s room. On the way he leans over her chair, “You wanna dowse the fire?”

“Roger that, Uncle C,” She flashes a grin. 

Skye scoots the chair out loudly. She pretends she has just received a text and pulls out her phone. She walks close to the bar and runs into the now mostly just damp Sheriff. 

“Hey! Sorry! Just trying to get to the trash.”

Emma steps to the side. There’s something about this brunette that is setting off her “Savior senses” but she’s not sure why yet. 

“My bad,” The blonde amends. 

Skye nonchalantly throws away some used napkins. She notices that Emma is still watching her closely, so she says, “ I take it was a rough day at the Sheriff’s department?”

Emma gives a barking laugh, “Yeah, you could call it that.”

Skye smiles innocently, “Sorry to hear that. You know...I’m sort of interested in joining the feds one day myself. I’m really into protecting people.”

Emma is not sure what to make of this. Sure, she’s Sheriff. But her job in Storybrooke is not exactly the job description a young woman from the outside world would be interested in. Savior; part time witch; daughter of the two most iconic Disney characters of all time. So, yeah, protecting people. 

“Oh, really?” She manages instead, “Well. I wish you the best, then. Emma Swan.”

They shake hands. 

“Hi, I’m Skye. It’s an honor to meet someone of such high standing in the force.”

“Yeah. Nice meeting you...Skye.”

“Yeah.”

Skye leaves and returns to her table of laughing family members. Emma still can’t shake that awkward feeling that she’s forgotten something- or simply needs to remember a certain fact, name, or date, but it’s too far gone now. Before she can do or think of anything else, the door to Granny’s bursts open and in come the rest of the family. 

“Hey!” A tall, handsome man with a swimmer’s body booms, “I just fixed your fire hydrant!” 

\----- -----

The rest of the day passes rather smoothly, to the Mayor’s estimate at least. She is to understand that the new family, who call themselves the “Millers”, were on their way to a friend’s house and got lost, finding themselves in Storybrooke. The family wishes to stay a night in town, something Regina loathes to permit but knows she must so as to not appear any more suspicious than she already has been (is it truly so unusual for the Mayor to greet newcomers?). She lets them in with a smile, but she knows it probably doesn’t look convincingly sincere. 

At least they fixed the fire hydrant, she thinks, so maybe some good will come of this. 

Ever since the recasting of the curse, she has suspected that the there is a major security flaw in the nature of the border. While instantaneous amnesia was once the penalty for crossing the town line, the purpose and intent of the second casting was not to imprison her curse victims, but rather, to find Emma Swan. As a result, people, both from Storybrooke and the outside world could, theoretically, cross the line whenever they wanted. 

God does she hate the Charmings. They, after all, were the ones who reset the curse, so technically this whole debacle is their fault. But at the same time she loves them, though she may never admit that fact. After all, they’re all family which is strangely more than she could ever ask of magic or a curse.

Her job is not one of prevention any more, but of defending her town and putting up a bold front. The delicate equilibrium between Storybrooke and the world has been breached.

Once upon a time, she was a sorceress Queen. Once upon a time, she was a terrifying Mayor. Once upon a time she was a single mother. She is an entity greater than her constituent parts. She is Regina Mills, and she knows her responsibility to this town and to those who depend upon her. Her people’s safety has been compromised, and now it is her duty to keep them safe. 

The thought terrifies Regina, but she chooses not to share her fears with anyone else. She doesn’t even share her fears with her son, Henry. As she kisses him goodnight and turns his nightlight out, she just smiles.

She does this because who would honestly care?   
\----- -----

Through the haze of obscuring darkness, two cars pass the orange spray painted line marked by a sign reading “Welcome to Storybrooke”. They are spaced ten minutes apart, but their arrival is far from coincidental. 

It is late. Ellen Parson’s watch says that it is close to 10:30 and she is surprised that the diner is still open until she sees the 24 hour sign while pulling the door open and walking in. She scans the available tables, politely smiles at a passing waitress, and makes her way slowly to a window seat. Her high heeled boots clack unpleasantly against the tiled floors. She specifically dressed up for this night in a slim black and white striped dress which flatters her figure and moves with her body fluidly.

She sits and pulls a menu to look at with feigned interest. Across from her, already sitting down is a woman, mid sixties, layered shoulder length blonde hair framing a broad jaw and tortured grey eyes. The blonde woman, too, is dressed formally, favoring a grey power suit. Patty Hewes reads a newspaper, and does not acknowledge Ellen’s entrance.

A waitress passes by and takes Ellen’s order of a tea. Patty asks for a wine. They continue staring at the papers in front of them. Contemplating; calculating, waiting for the other adversary to make a move. To make a mistake.

“Diapers,” Patty remarks, “The prices are outrageous. I’m glad Catherine has finally outgrown them.”

Ellen nods. If this is a delay tactic, then two can play at this game.

“I finally went dress shopping yesterday and I found this,” She says.

The waitress places their orders on the table and both women nod with cordial smiles plastered disingenuously on their faces.

“Much better than your old fashion, I’ll admit. Very flattering,” Patty remarks, “Did you know that over five-million different species of fungi exist throughout the world?”

She flips the paper over so that Ellen can see and points to an article featuring deadly flora and fauna. This is rather up front for Patty, so she takes the paper with a smile which Patty reflects.

Patty begins tapping absently on the table. Whether she is aware of her actions or not Ellen is unsure. Patty reads as if she is still calculating, so Ellen stares out the window for a long while until her blonde counterpart’s brow furrows in agitation.

“Ellen, why have you come here?” Patty sighs.

“I was about to ask you the same,” Ellen replies smoothly.

“I’m working on a case, of course,” Patty says with a layer of acid.

“I suppose this place is just full of surprises,” Ellen lifts an eyebrow, “I’m here for a case as well.”

When the waitress comes by to take their glasses, she comes across the staring contest of the century. Unnerved, she leaves with little intention of returning until asked for a check.

“Things are quiet at the D.A.’s office compared to yours,” Ellen remarks, frankly “I think I’m actually beginning to miss it.”

“Bullshit!” Patty says with more vigor than she intended. The Diner suddenly quiets, and the two new women in town garner stares from all around. They stare back until the other customers are too intimidated to continue looking at them and return to their own business. 

“I’m actually here for an investigation,” Ellen continues, finally.

Patty responds with a huff, “Well, that was obvious enough.”

“There’s this woman, Regina Mills,” the brunette attorney continues, “Almost 30 years ago we have no record of her, but suddenly a bank account in Boston appeared with over seven-hundred grand in her name.”

“That’s a simple wire transfer and an identity change,” Patty reprimands, “You’re losing your touch, Ellen.”

“If you miss me so much, why don’t you just say so,” Ellen challenges, and she knows she scores home because Patty’s eye twitches.

“Well, I wish you the best of luck, Ellen,” Patty responds with saccharine as she waves the waitress over.

Patty turns to the waitresses and gestures impersonally to Ellen, “My friend will be treating tonight.”


End file.
